East of the Sun and West of the Moon
by Rose and Psyche
Summary: On the night of the winter solstice, Caspian's nurse tells him an old fairy tale. Book-verse canon. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all!
1. The Wreckers

The Wreckers

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><p>Leading lights:<em> A pair of light beacons, used in navigation to indicate a safe passage for vessels entering a shallow or dangerous channel. The beacons consist of two lights that are separated in distance and elevation, so that when they are aligned, with one above the other, they provide a bearing.<em>

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><p>A little golden haired boy walked down the hallway, his bear dragging behind him on its back, staring up at the ceiling and wondering…but that is for another story. The wood floor was very cold to the boy's bare feet and the darkness knelt deep in the corners, ready to spring at any moment. The silence was extreme, it was a soft, profoundly cold silence and the only light was the candle that flickered in front of him, drawing him on with a wan yellow trail gleaming on the polished floorboards.<p>

"Come now, Caspian, you should never have gotten up," his nurse's voice came soft out of the darkness, her hand shielding the candle flame from the draftiness of the castle. "It is time when all little boys should be in bed."

"I so wished I would be able to stay up tonight," Caspian whispered.

"Someday you shall."

The door swung open on soft hinges and closed behind him. With a sudden rush, Caspian ran to the bed and burrowed under the coverlet, shivering. Muttering to herself, Nurse went to poke at the embers that slept on the hearth.

"Nurse," Caspian said suddenly, "Why is it that it is always so silent on nights when it snows?"

"Why do you think?" Nurse asked softly coming to sit on the bed. She tucked the blankets under his chin and pulled on Bear until he was lying snugly next to Caspian, his glass eyes flickering in the candle flame.

"I wish I could have stayed up," Caspian sighed, his mind turning once again downstairs. He had been able to see the Christmas tree lighting, but only for a little while. The tree, a towering blue spruce nearly as tall as the roof, had glittered with a thousand candles and overflowed the hall with a sharp fragrance that filled his mind with wonder. Then he had had to go upstairs while everyone else feasted in the Great Hall, filled with merriment and happiness.

He had not stayed in bed long, but had crept away downstairs, just he and Bear, to peak into the room, as he stood hidden behind a curtain. They had not seen him as they laughed and drank their mead and the lights lit the pyramids of food, but Nurse always seemed to know exactly where he was and now he was back where he had started – in bed.

"Why is it called the feast of Queen Lucia?" Caspian asked, "Who is Queen Lucia anyway?"

"Queen Lucy."

At the name, Caspian shivered, "You mean the same Queen Lucy who was the sister of High King Peter the Magnificent? The Queen Lucy that came long, long ago, even before my ancestors came?"

"The very same," Nurse smiled, leaning closer, the golden light playing off her features oddly.

"Tell me about it, please!" Caspian asked, suddenly wanting very much to know.

"Today is the winter solstice," Nurse said quietly. "It is the shortest day of the year. It was this night that Queen Lucy made her journey. She was not much older than you are now. She was called the Valiant because of it."

"What happened?" Caspian begged, "Please! What happened?"

"It was because of the wreckers," Nurse said.

"Who are they?"

"I will start from the beginning."

~o*o~

Rain mixed with snow in the howling wind that tore the sails to sodden ribbons and sent the waves washing over the deck. The ship rose and fell, crashing down the rolling backs of the seas deep into the troughs. The night was black and the tempest tossed waves blacker as the captain peered forward through the cold sleet that rattled and leapt on the deck. Four sailors held the wheel, gritting their teeth against the pull and praying for a hush in the wind – anything to relieve the strain.

Icy seawater washed underfoot and the captain barely kept his footing as the ship rolled with a tortured groan. Lightning slit the sky, but the thunder was drowned by the roar of the seas. Above them, the spars shimmered with an eerie glow; the masts seemed silhouetted with blue fire. Yet, in all that turmoil of rain filled sky and surging sea, something in the distance, where the shore lay, caught his eye.

It was a spark of green, but no more than a spark. As the ship coasted down a wave, it remained motionless, glimmering like a firefly. The ship rose again, surging up a foam laced sea and the Captain saw with a sudden rush of hope, that there was another spark, directly below the first.

"They must be! They must be!" he barely realized that he had shouted aloud, though no one heard but the wind that snatched his words away. Those lights, gleaming green and motionless must be leading lights, the lights that marked a harbor. Lining them up perfectly, one above the other, would bring them through the shoals to safety… safety and quiet out of this raging storm.

Stumbling, the captain took the nearest steersman by the shoulder and shouted in his ear.

"Do you see those lights?" he cried, "They mark a harbor, keep them lined up. We'll be safe within the hour."

Slowly, the ship swung around, rolling in the surging sea. The sailing master shouted above the wind, instructing the sailors on deck to trim the sheets of the straining sails. Rising and falling, the vessel rushed on, those two sparks glittering dead on their bowsprit end. The captain watched them, straining every muscle as if he could push the ship forward toward those lovely lights.

It was then that the ship shuddered, then crashed to a halt, the wind screaming around her like furies. Black water rose impossibly high and crashed in a sheet over the stern and in his last moment standing, the captain looked up and saw that the bow was wedged between two black rocks and the twin lights that had guided them were gone.

"Cruel, cruel joke," he whispered as black water struck him off his feet and sent him under.

~o*o~

The town of Paravel had been around for less than a year. It was a merry little town, all little warm cottages and illuminated windows casting yellow pools of light on the snow below. There was a main street – and only street – in the town and all the little businesses clustered along it.

King Edmund walked through the shadows, the hand of Queen Lucy firmly in his grasp. She was a Queen, but she was also nine and nine-year-olds are well known for disappearing at random from one's field of view. Edmund himself was eleven, and vastly more grown up at the moment.

Lucy had wanted to take a walk that afternoon and Edmund had suggested the town. Lucy had been quick to agree and the two of them had skipped down the hill to see the decorations on the houses and the candles in the windows just now being lighted to ward away the dusk.

"Come on, Lucy," Edmund said and tugged at her hand as she stopped suddenly to look at something in the lighted window of a little shop. He had a sudden image of tugging the leash of a puppy that had found something marvelously interesting and would not be uprooted.

"Oh do stop for a moment, Edmund!" Lucy exclaimed and Edmund stopped. A row of china dolls met his annoyed eyes.

"Look here, Lucy," Edmund said, "Don't tell me you like dolls suddenly."

"Of course not!" Lucy cried, "Do look at the wooden man!"

"What man?" Edmund asked.

"The wooden one," Lucy said impatiently and at last, he saw what she pointed at.

It was a red coated soldier and the rows of gold braid, the stripes on his trousers and the tall feathered hat on his head stirred old memories in Edmund's mind. In his inner eye, he saw the King's Guard changing at Buckingham Palace in London in what seemed so long ago.

"It's a nutcracker," Edmund stated.

"It's lovely," Lucy said.

"Why?" Edmund asked, "Do come on, I'm getting cold."

Lucy obliged and they continued on, Edmund got cold easily. She looked back over her shoulder once and caught just a glimpse of the nutcracker's scarlet coat. What was it that caught her so about him? Was it the solidness of him, the staunch, 'I don't care a fig' look in his eyes? Or was it the sadness she'd saw in his wooden face?

"I wonder who carved him?" Lucy asked.

"Who?"

~o*o~

In the darkness of the following morning, Cair Paravel was alive with the sights and sounds of winter. Snow lay in white clouds on the battlements, sleighs ran on singing runners over the packed roads and inside, the Great Hall with its wall of peacock feathers, was heavy with the fragrance of greenery. Holly glowed red from under spiked leaves and mistletoe hung in doorways, waiting for unsuspecting persons to step underneath.

Susan sat in an alcove, sewing, her silver needle flashing as it slipped through the silky violet brocade on her lap. She was tacking silver lace around the collar, holding it up every now and then to watch it glitter in the light of the candelabras.

In the middle of the room she saw the little choir animals in their white robes, their voices golden as the stars that shined on high. A tiny squirrel was at the top of a doorway, pinning up a bunch of mistletoe and laughing when another squirrel, coming unsuspectingly under it, was kissed by the High King who stood in the shadows, watching everything. With a squeak, all the squirrel's fur stood on end and she dashed to hide under the nearest chair until she could regain her composure. Peter grinned.

Lucy stood up from her place next to Susan and walked resolutely across the room to stand under the mistletoe, her eyes shining as she looked up at Peter. He could do nothing but oblige.

"You're sad, Peter," she said reproachfully, holding his head down on her level.

"I'm not…not really," he said, kneeling down. "Everything is lovely."

"What happened?" Edmund asked, proving as he moved, that he really wasn't part of the velvet drapes that shrouded the icy window panes.

Peter bowed his head, then looked up, "It's the wreckers again," he said at last.

With a sigh, Susan pushed her needle into her fabric and looked up at him.

"Another ship sank last night on the black rocks up the coast," Peter said quietly. "Only a few men survived. It's the usual story."

"The lights leading onto the rocks?" Edmund asked.

Peter nodded, "then the pirates come down and filch the cargo before the ship breaks up."

"Can't we do anything?" Susan asked.

"I've _tried_," Peter said. "My first thought of course, was to build a fire at the top of the cliff to warn ships that they were standing in danger, but it isn't bright enough and it doesn't burn well in the cold and snow. It was raining last night."

There was silence as they contemplated this information. The choir sang and the flames flickered, hovering over the melting wax tapers in the candelabras. Lucy turned and went to the window, glad to see that the eastern sky was growing lighter and the stars were fading.

"Can't we catch them?" Lucy asked, looking around.

"Tried that too," Peter said tiredly, "But think of it, going down those cliffs in a storm is suicide and nobody can fly down there in a gale. In good weather, I've sent people down there to see what's up, but they've never found anything."

"Which is why I think they are a remnant," Edmund said quietly.

A shiver went down Lucy's spine, "You mean…some of _her_ people?" she whispered.

"What else?" Edmund asked, turning to look at her seriously. "What else could cling to those rocks in a storm and lure ships to their doom?"

"What happens to the men on the ships?" Susan asked, "what do the survivors tell?"

"There were only three survivors last night and they didn't remember anything but the lights," Peter said, "The rest all drowned or were beaten to death on the rocks."

There was a moment of silence and Lucy, trying to shake the darkness of the wreckers from her shoulders, seized it.

"We _are_ going to get the Christmas tree today?"

"Of course," Peter said, laughing, "In fact, if you'll put your boots and cloak on, we'll leave at once."

~o*o~

Lucy had often thought that during winter, night was the most magical time of all, night when the snow glittered like fairies' wings under the moon and the stars looked down on a silent, beautiful world.

But as the horses threw themselves into the harness, the bells danced and the sleigh runners sang, Lucy thought that the day could be magical too. It was all cold blue sky and snow, deep with blue shadows and twinkling sparks of light. The horses snorted, sending clouds of mist into the sharp, clear air. Nothing seemed to be any particular color, or at least, when Lucy tried to name a color, she could not. The snow was alive with every color, deepened by blue shadows and to the right; the sea gleamed gray and blue, iridescent as the feathers on a peacock's breast.

Nearly everyone from Cair Paravel came too, the snow behind the sleigh churned and flying as centaurs and unicorns dashed after them and squirrels, mice, bears, foxes, lions and every other kind of animal, ran to keep up. The gentlemen and ladies of the court reined in their steeds to keep pace with the flying sleigh and Lucy laughed with the sheer happiness of it.

Peter urged the horses on and they were galloping when they left the little town behind and reached the woods down the slope from Cair Paravel.

The forest was the most magical place of all. The trees bowed to them as they walked past, touching their branches to the snow and wishing them all the happiness in the world. The chickadees sang and darted through the air, while a buck froze to watch them, tiny hoof upraised, eye gleaming. Tiny bushes with bright berries were bowed, frozen in the snow and Lucy reached out to touch a twig so coated with ice it looked as if it were blown glass. The sun was low on the horizon and its slanting yellow rays lit the snow with a brilliance that made their hearts skip with the beauty. Long shadows crossed yellow light and the crowns of the trees seemed alight with the sun.

The party fell silent in the woods, treading softly after the four children as they plunged through knee deep snow. The centaurs' beards drifted in the soft wind and the fauns hugged themselves against the chill. Susan thought of another winter when they had walked through snow for miles before time had rushed forward and spring had come, Edmund remembered, with a shiver, darker, colder thoughts then Susan would ever have.

It was in a small sun-sparkled clearing that they saw what they came for. It was a tall, sharp fir tree, thirty feet or more, and beautiful as a ballet dancer. The branches hung heavy with snow as Peter respectfully went forward and knocked on the trunk. No one answered and as they cast around, the other trees in the area informed them that that particular tree was deserted and had been for some time. A rabbit, shaking snow out of his ears as he came out of his hole, agreed with them, pointing out that the dryad had left last year for a sunnier climate.

"Well then," Edmund said, smiling and presently, the dwarfs came forward, their axes flashing and swung and swung until at last, the tree groaned, swayed for a moment and fell, magnificent to the end. The centaurs charged forward with ropes, to lash around the base of the trunk and a moment later, they were hauling the tree through the woods. Everyone else ran alongside, and when Lucy stumbled, she found herself swung astride the trunk by one of the centaurs. She clutched the nearest branch, laughing.

As they approached the town, Lucy subconsciously slid off the branch and galumphed to the little shop front she had seen last night. She didn't know what drew her, but she desperately wanted just another look at the nutcracker. Yet, she knew something was dreadfully wrong when she reached the window. No flash of red met her eyes, only the pinched, white faces of the china dolls. The place where the nutcracker had stood was empty.

"Oh!" Lucy gasped, "Oh!"

"What is it?"

She looked up to see Peter and his happy face made her suddenly ashamed of the tear that tricked down her nose and dripped off the end.

"Oh Lucy! You're not crying!" he cried, kneeling down, "What happened?"

"The nutcracker! It's – it's gone!" she choked. "It was there last night!"

"It's just a nutcracker," Edmund said lightly, then made a strange choking sound when Peter gave him a hooded glance.

"Tell you what," Edmund added, suddenly grinning, "We'll make you one."

"Whatever happens, you mustn't cry," Susan said nonchalantly, wiping Lucy's tears away. "Just think how much someone must be enjoying the nutcracker. That must make you happy."

"It doesn't," Lucy wailed then wailed all the louder when she caught sight of Peter's face. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he was smiling.

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><p>Author's Note: If you consult your calender, you'll find out that today, the 13th of December is the feast of St. Lucy (or Lucia, whichever you prefer). Though I'm not into the creepy back story about pulling out eyes and all that, I was reminded that 'Lucy' means 'light'. I couldn't leave it alone (not to mention that Rose has been after me to write a Christmas story). The 13th was originally thought to be the winter solstice (the shortest day of the year) now we know it falls more around the 20th.<p>

Wreckers were active in Cornwall in the 18th century, as well as other places like the Caribbean, Canada, the American Colonies ect... It was piracy, hand in glove with the marine salvagers who steal ships that are left high and dry at low tide on the norfolk broads (and other places.)


	2. The Noor

The Noor

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><p><em>In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don't. <em>

~Blaise Pascal

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><p>The sky was beginning to cloud over and the first few snowflakes of the day spiraled through the air, settling softly on hair and shoulders as they dragged the tree up the hill and through the gates of Cair Paravel. Laughing, the guards dashed out of the way and presently they were dragging the tree into the Great Hall, trailing clumps of snow and frozen moss across the marble floor.<p>

Lucy looked down at the tree where it lay folded across the floor, filling the air with the fresh, sharp smell of pine and outdoors as it thawed in the heat. Working with the beavers, the centaurs fixed the base of the tree, then fastening ropes near the top of it. Everyone tallied on until the tree shivered, then began to rise, majestic, shaking snow and ice in great showers on the creatures at its base. The squirrels grabbed the ends of the ropes and raced up the walls to fasten them to the hammerbeam roof.

At last, the tree stood tall and silent, the branches darkened by the melting snow. There was something indescribably noble about that tree and there was silence as everyone suddenly stopped to look at it. It seemed a tall gracious lady in a green gown.

"Shall we decorate her?" Lucy asked, at last breaking the silence.

"We'll let the snow melt first," Susan said. "Does anyone want spiced wine?"

~o*o~

That afternoon, they had the task of hauling box upon box of decorations into the great hall. The floor glittered as Lucy laid ornaments out on the flagstones. There were little people, animals, flowers, stars, leaves – all wrought beautifully in gold and silver.

They set to work hanging ornaments, laughing as the little birds swung high in the air streaming gold brocade ribbon and draping it over the arms of the tree. The squirrels swung through the branches, trailing tinsel until it seemed to be snowing with it.

"Lucy, what are you doing?" Edmund asked, as Lucy slipped under the branches of the tree and sat there, staring up through the branches.

"I'm learning the tree," Lucy said, "I always learn it, every year."

"You do?" Edmund asked and a moment later, he joined her, looking up through the layers of braches and glittering ornaments.

"Isn't it simply lovely?" Lucy asked with a sigh.

"Wait until we get the candles on," Edmund said.

Time passed more quickly than Lucy expected. Darkness pressed against the windows of the great hall as she started handing candles up to Edmund where he stood at the top step of a ladder Peter had found in a forgotten closet.

"It's already dark," Lucy said, happy; the lights would be beautiful.

"It's only four o'clock," Susan said. "It's the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year and the longest night."

Peter grew suddenly grave, "We'll hear more from the wreckers tonight."

There was silence.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Lucy asked suddenly. "At all?"

Peter shook his head, "I don't know."

"We need a Noor to glow on that cliff at night," Ahearn, one of the centaurs, said, looking down at them from the candle he was fixing on a branch.

"A Noor?" Lucy asked. "What is a Noor?"

"A fairy stone."

"_Are_ there any fairies?"

"There were once," Ahearn said, trimming the wick of the candle. "At Elphame. Legend has it that King Auberon and Queen Maev had a stone that glowed brighter than the sun."

"Where is Elphame?" Lucy asked.

"East of the sun and west of the moon," he laughed, "No one really knows, your majesty. The last sighting of a fairy was more than a hundred years ago. Legend has it that if you only look for it, you will find it. It never worked for me."

"Maybe you have to want it badly enough," Lucy suggested.

The birds circled the tree, lighted splinters in their beaks. Candle after candle lit in a burst of gold, the glowing shadows of the branches falling on the walls, lighted from a thousand different ways. The tree rose, glittering with myriad flickering lights, reflected perfectly in the puddles of water that lay on the flagstones.

Lucy looked up at everyone, seeing their faces otherworldly in golden light. She looked at Susan, with her long dark hair streaming down her back and with a sudden shock, realized that her sister was beautiful. Edmund's blue eyes were shining as he looked up at the tree and for a moment, Lucy wondered if his expression was more beautiful than the sight before them. Peter looked tired and somehow sad, yet there was a look about his face that made him seem more noble than even the great centaurs that stood around them.

Her heart overflowing, Lucy reached out and grabbed the two closest hands, Edmund's and Susan's, and felt tears trickle down her cheeks as she looked up at the shimmering vision before them.

"Everything is perfect, isn't it?" Peter said quietly, coming to put his hands on Lucy's shoulders and looking up at the light at the top of the tree, gleaming like a star gone astray, "I only wish no more ships would be wrecked."

"So do I," Susan said.

"Now Lucy," Peter said, "aren't you going to look under the tree?"

Lucy looked up at him, eyes shining, then turned and ran to duck under the branches of the tree. The white skirt spread out like a circle of snow and on it, wrapped in gold cloth, was a box. With shaking fingers, she picked it up and turned to look at them. They were smiling.

"Might I open it now?" Lucy asked, hardly daring to hope.

"We thought you'd like to," Peter said, smiling.

Lucy set the box on the floor and untied the blue ribbons that bound it. The cloth fell away, revealing a long, polished wooden box. Carefully, she lifted the lid and saw, nestled in creamy satin, a wooden statue. It was a red coated soldier with rows of gold braid. It was the nutcracker.

"Oh, thank you!" Lucy gasped, gently lifting him from the box and looking into his brightly painted face. Tears ran all anew down her face, one fell golden on the nutcracker's cheek and for a moment, he looked so infinitely sad, she started crying all over again. The others all stood grinning around her.

"We…um…sort of snuck down last night to buy him after Edmund told us how much you liked him," Peter said grinning, "We didn't think that any Christmas was complete without a nutcracker."

"Don't you remember the story of Clara and the Nutcracker?" Susan asked, seeing Lucy's puzzled face.

"Oh yes," Lucy said, laughing, "at least…I think I do…"

"I tell it to you sometime," Susan said smiling.

"I'd like that," Lucy said, "and thank you very, very much. He's beautiful…I mean, handsome. I don't know why I wanted him so much…I just did."

~o*o~

Lucy's imagination had always been vivid and as the afternoon progressed and the tapers were lighted in the hallways, her mind turned to the black cliffs that swept down into the sea that had been raging last night. In her mind's eye, she saw a ship – as vividly as she saw her own hands – rising and falling on the swell, sails torn to tatters, sailors straining on the ropes.

Her heart was heavy and suddenly, the golden lights that flickered in the halls were palled. She tried to shake the feeling, but it would not go. As they ate supper, she only picked at her food.

"Are you all right, Lucy?" Susan asked, worried.

"Oh yes," Lucy said, then paused, "I wonder if I might go to bed early?"

"Of course, if you'd like," Susan said, "are you not feeling well?"

"I'm all right," she said, picking up her nutcracker.

Really, she wasn't feeling well. Day had been all very well, but night had come and things are always darker at night. The hallways were lit and the candle flames flickered and bowed as she passed. A cold draft followed in her wake and she wrapped her arms around herself. Perhaps sleep would help; perhaps her dreams would be free of those visions that filled her head.

As she opened the door of her room, moonlight glowed in a white shaft in the hallway. She could see her window, cold as ice, and the moon riding high across the sky, burning silver with all its might. The stars flanked the moon like handmaidens, arrayed in their finest gowns and as Lucy walked across the floor, she saw the black trees, etchings against the spangled sky. The snow glowed white as the moon, starkly shadowed by the line of trees that encircled the castle.

Presently, she went to bed and was hard asleep with her nutcracker when her brothers and sister crept into her room to kiss her goodnight and bid her sleeping form sweet dreams.

~o*o~

"We need a Noor to glow on that cliff at night,"

"Elphame? But where is it?"

"East of the sun and west of the moon. If you only look for it, you will find it. It never worked for me."

"Maybe you have to want it badly enough."

Lucy woke with a start, staring into the darkness. How long had she slept? Had she even slept at all? She was shaking and it was not from the cold. Her dreams, if they had been dreams, had been so vivid she felt that she had lived them. She had been on a ship, tossing on black water. There had been a tall, golden haired man and a young woman with a beautiful face. There was a little boy, a very little boy with tousled yellow hair and frightened eyes...she had _been_ there.

"We need a Noor to glow on that cliff at night."

The words of the centaur had imprinted themselves on her mind. They needed something bright enough to shine through the night, through the wind and the rain, bright enough to warn a ship away before it ever saw the sparks of light that would lead it onto the rocks. They needed a lighthouse with a powerful beacon…but there wasn't one and every night when the moon was covered or when the sea rose in fury, ships would be wrecked on the rocks and men would die.

Lucy slipped out of bed and walked to the window, putting her fingers against the frozen glass and watching her breath mist against it. The stars seemed to draw her and for a moment, she could almost imagine herself in the sky, lost in a ballet of beautiful lights. _East of the sun and west of the moon_? Just where was that? Which way was west?

Before she really knew what she was doing, she turned from the window and left her room, creaking over the floorboards. The royal sitting room was dark and her bare feet sank into a deep carpet. The door to Peter's room was just there, on her right and gently, oh so gently, she lifted the latch and put her head inside. Silence met her ears and walking on tiptoe, she stepped inside the room and crept across it, trying not to trip over the sleeping hounds that littered the floor. One woke, but he recognized her scent and only thumped his tail once before he was asleep again.

With hands outstretched, Lucy reached Peter's dresser and felt over it carefully before her fingers closed over something cold and round. Gently she lifted it and the chain shimmered in the moonlight that slipped around the curtains in the window. She glanced furtively at the bed where it stood, shrouded by curtains. She knew Peter always slept armed and if he woke and didn't recognize her, she was in grave danger.

Stealthily, she crept back across the floor and out into the royal sitting room. She went to the window, and let the moonlight fall on the thing in her hands; her brother's gold cased compass. Slowly, the needle swung and settled, pointing towards the northern mountains, black peaks against a black sky. Then of course east would be towards the eastern sea. For a moment, Lucy's ears grew hot and she smiled. Not know which way east was, indeed. West was the other way, then, towards Lantern's Waste and the white caps that crowned the sky.

East of the sun and west of the moon. The sun was not up, but she could go west of the moon well enough. As she stood there, she formed a resolution, feeling more sure than she had ever felt in her life.

* * *

><p>Author's note: 'East of the Sun and West of the Moon' is of course a classic fairy tale, a little like the Cupid and Psyche story C. S. Lewis later turned into 'Till We have Faces'. However, it has no relevance with this story, I just borrowed the name.<p>

King Auberon and Queen Maev (Mab) are the traditional rulers of the fairy realm (Elphame). You may recognize them as Oberon and Titania.

Noor is Persian (as is Aslan) meaning 'Light'.

I've _never_ gotten 97 hits on a first chapter before...thanks for the interest! (I thought people would like it, but I didn't expect _that_ much excitement. I hope no one is disappointed!:)


	3. The Crossing

The Crossing

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><p><em>I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen. Not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else. <em>

~C. S. Lewis

* * *

><p>Lucy was too young to think that she was being foolish. The ideas of freezing to death in the snow, or losing her way never occurred to her. She would just keep going until she got there; it was as simple as that. She had thought about bringing her horse, but only for a moment, she was small and she still wasn't very good at riding; saddling a horse in the middle of the night wasn't something she was too keen on. After all, she had walked a long way through the snow last winter with everybody, why couldn't she do it alone now? She was almost a year older.<p>

She stopped in the middle of the moonlit sheet of snow in front of the castle and consulted the compass in her hand. West…west was her direction. Her boots were still wet from earlier in the day and her feet were cold. Her cloak was fur lined, but it made it very heavy. Her breath hung white in the moonlit air.

She looked up at the moon, squinting into its brightness, almost fancying that she could see a pair of silver-maned horses drawing a great disk of white gold. What would it be like to be up there?

The woods were dark and for one moment, she hesitated, but that would not do, she must press on, being scared wouldn't help anybody. The trees hung heavy with gleaming snow and her feet sank deep. An owl looked down from a high tree at the little girl as she walked, her compass held in front of her, her shadowed footprints behind.

"Who? Who," the owl closed his yellow eyes, then stretched his great silent wings and took to the wind currents.

"Who was that?" Lucy whispered, looking up as a shadow twisted through the trees and vanished from sight. She closed cold fingers more firmly around the compass and continued on, stepping on blue glittering snow.

Up behind the stars, light stretched like a blue cloak across the sky. Lucy looked up, wondering as ribbons of green and blue light moved across the sky turning the snow with otherworldly colors. Red joined purple in the heights, flashing across the sky in veils of light.

As she walked, her old dreams came back to her, her dreams of the man, the woman and the little boy. The little boy was below decks, lying in his hammock, crying because of the darkness. Lucy reached out to him and her fingers met silky golden hair, he was very little, probably not more than four years old.

"I'm so scared," he whispered.

"So am I," Lucy said gently. "But everything will be all right."

The little boy shook his head, "Father is scared too, I can tell."

The ship rose and fell and Lucy found herself reaching out to steady herself. She went up to her elbows in snow. Gasping, she looked up at the dancing lights across the sky and stumbled to her feet. The trees stood over her, dark shadows and another dark shadow stood next to her, a shadow with a shaggy head and sloping back.

It was Aslan.

Lucy had no feelings of surprise on seeing him; she only clutched his mane and walked on beside him. He was there; she had never expected anything else. The little boy still stared at her with wide blue eyes and she stared back.

"Who are you, anyway?" he asked.

"Nobody – nobody much," Lucy whispered. She walked on, one floundering step after another, up to her knees in deep snow. Her stockings had long since soaked through and now they were frozen and stiff as icicles. The moon hung cold in the sky and she vaguely wondered if there even was an east to it.

On, on. She never knew just how hard it was to walk through the snow. Over and over again, she simply wanted to lie down and sleep. But her hands had too tight a hold on Aslan's mane and somehow she couldn't let go. The little boy kept watching her and it seemed that his eyes had merged with the stars, two blue ones burning next to the moon.

Lucy came to herself face down on the snow and as she rolled over and sat up, she saw Aslan, still standing over her. Behind him, she saw a single set of footprints, deep shadows in the snow.

"Aslan," she whispered, accusingly, "where are your footprints? Did you go away?"

"Dear heart," he whispered, "I was carrying you."

"Where are we?" Lucy asked.

"East of the sun and west of the moon."

And suddenly, he wasn't there anymore. He was gone, yet she still felt his presence, warm and beautiful on her heart. She climbed to her feet and stood shivering in the middle of the moonlit snow, surrounded by dark trees and looking up at the moon. It was behind her now and she could see the silver horses more clearly than she did before.

The silence was extreme. She only heard her own painful breathing and the measured beating of her heart. The trees stood tall like eerie sentinels, at attention in the dark. As her eyes adjusted from the moonlight to the shadows, she saw sparks of light hovering low upon the ground and moving, always moving, the stealthy sound of footsteps muffled in the snow.

Shadows flitted silent across the moonlit snow and Lucy stood frozen as she saw brilliant eyes burning in the night. She saw furry backs and curling claws, long tails that twisted like a snake's and snouts that were sniffing, sniffing for her scent.

Lucy didn't scream, she never screamed. Her mouth opened and no sound came out. She couldn't move, she couldn't shake, her eyes were frozen open as the furry creatures flitted towards her as silent as the owl that had flown across the sky.

"Oh Aslan," she whispered, "help me."

At her words, a bugle blew, clear and merry as a ray of light. Drums were beating, feet treading heavy, thumping on the icy ground. At the sound, the creatures hesitated, looked around, their whiskers twitching. With a thrill of horror, Lucy saw that they were rats, huger than mastiffs.

The trees shook, the bugle blew again and Lucy saw a mounted Grenadier, saber drawn and eyes flashing, leaping at a rat. The others followed in a rush and rattle of drums and a moment later, the little snow topped meadow was a battlefield under the moon. The snow churned and flew, showering in the sky as cold steel burned and flashed. Lucy's eyes followed the progress of the first Grenadier, obviously the leader by his rows of gold braid and sparkling epaulets. He fought well, very well, but he was fighting the largest rat, a rat glorious in a golden crown. The rat seized the soldier's arm and pulled him from his horse and Lucy, before she even knew what she was doing, tore off her icy boot and whopped the monster on the head.

The battle seemed to end as suddenly as it had begun. The rats gathered up their fallen leader and fled as the Grenadiers cheered and saluted each other with their swords. The head Grenadier turned to face Lucy and she stared at him in shock.

"Why…why, you're my nutcracker!"

"The one and only, your majesty," he bowed deeply before her and kissed her hand. Lucy's foot was going numb.

"Now, you must be deeply weary and Elphame is not far from here," the Nutcracker bowed again and on noticing her boot, picked it up and undid the laces so Lucy could put it back on.

"Thank you," Lucy said, "thank you very much."

"Not at all, now if you don't mind your majesty," and before Lucy could even protest, he picked her up off her weary feet and swung her astride the horse where it stood waiting next to him. She clutched the brocaded saddle and felt the heat of the horse soak slowly though to warm her. It was a beautiful horse, white as the snow and whiter still with a curling mane that hung to its knees.

"Attention!" The nutcracker called and instantly, the guard fell in and stood facing him, "Forward march!"

The nutcracker did an about-face, the horse's reins in his hands, and as they marched the guard put their instruments to their lips and began to play. Yet, to Lucy's surprise, it wasn't like the playing of a band at all, it was beautiful and light as snowflakes and looking over the nutcracker's shoulder, she saw that it was beginning to snow.

The snowflakes spiraled down, beautiful and flashing, far larger than snowflakes she had ever seen before. They seemed to grow larger and larger and suddenly, they seemed to be so many beautiful ladies in drifting white gowns, sparkling in the moonlight. Tiny wings flashed on their backs and they danced to the music, throwing little circles of light on the glittering snow.

Lucy stared at them in awe, stared at their beautiful faces and slender bodies as they danced and twisted through the air. They were lovelier than anything she had ever seen before and as time passed, they seemed to gather their courage and they touched Lucy's cheeks with cold little hands, fluttering around her head, sparkling dust trailing from their wings.

"What are they?" Lucy asked, though in her heart she already knew the answer.

"Fairies," The nutcracker said.

"They're so pretty," Lucy sighed.

"So they are."

The horse walked on, with a soft, swaying gait and ears pricked back to catch the stains of music. Lucy buried her hands in the heavy white mane and thought she caught a strange, sweet perfume.

The woods opened before them and entangled trees gave way to silver branches. Lucy started to see gold leaves fluttering in the lights that still flashed across the sky. The sky…it was growing lighter and as Lucy watched, golden lights joined the reds and greens in the heavens as the sun crept over the western horizon. A pair of yellow horses, their manes streaming fire were galloping at the edge of the world, drawing the chariot of the sun after them.

"That's the sun!" Lucy cried, "It's rising in the west!"

"We have caught up with it," the Nutcracker explained quietly, "we are very nearly to Elphame."

Light seemed to be everywhere; no longer were the woods dark; golds and greens and purples stained the snow with color and washed the trees in brilliant array. The trees were tall, straight things now, with bark of silver and leaves of gold, singing with strange voices and Lucy realized that the trees themselves were singing the song that the band behind her had been playing. Lucy glanced back and saw that she and the nutcracker were alone, the grenadiers were gone and the fairies filled the air like flower petals on a late spring day.

The horse's hooves no longer were muffled by snow and Lucy saw a soft green carpet underfoot. The trees stood on either side, as uniform as a row of columns, their branches touching above them like a hammerbeam roof. There was a rush of warm, sweat scented air and Lucy looked up to see a dais made of rocks, entwined with vines and white flowers.

The nutcracker eased the horse to a halt and before Lucy could speak, she was swung off the horse, not by the nutcracker, as she first thought, but by a tall man with eyes so blue they put the sky to shame. He set her down and she stood before him, suddenly feeling very bedraggled and grubby as she looked up at the lady beside him, the tall, beautiful lady. Her hair was the color of spun gold, freshly polished and never had Lucy seen anyone more lovely.

"Queen Lucy," the Lady said, kneeling so she could look Lucy in the eyes, "I am Maev, Queen of the fairies. You have come very far to seek us."

"Aslan brought me most of the way," Lucy said.

"You have his aura resting on you, I can see it, shimmering as gold as his mane," the man said, then taking Lucy's hand and kissing it, said, "I am Auberon, king of the fairies. I hope whatever you seek, you will find with us."

"You are so beautiful," Lucy said in awe, looking up at them, "I'm sorry I didn't come properly dressed."

Maev smiled and Lucy looked down at herself in embarrassment. But no plain kirtle over a nightgown met her eyes; she wore a golden gown of silk, embroidered with blue and green.

"Who is your friend?" Maev asked, looking up at the nutcracker, where he stood back, suddenly shy of them.

Lucy looked over her shoulder at him and smiled, "He's my nutcracker." She said simply, then paused, "who are you, anyway?"

"I'm not a nutcracker…" the nutcracker said, then paused, "At least, I was until you got me. I once was a Lord, whom the Witch captured long ago. Now, I believe I am me again."

"What is your name, then?" Lucy asked, "If you're not a nutcracker."

"Peridan," he said quietly, "I was Peridan until I foolishly tried to go into Narnia a few years back and became a nutcracker. As far as I know, my sister and brother live in Archenland still, imagining me dead."

"You shall go back to them," Maev said, smiling.

"That has been the dearest wish of my heart," Peridan said. "And thanks to Queen Lucy," he turned to smile at her, "I am well again. Why, she took her own boot off to relieve me of my assailant."

"The rats," Auberon said, "part of the remnant. They are the ones that lure ships to their doom on the coast of Narnia."

"The rats are the ones?" Lucy squeaked, "I mean, the wreckers? Edmund was right then!"

"There will not be many times when he will be wrong," Maev said quietly. "Now my dear, you must be very weary, come and rest awhile, and take refreshment while your nutcracker tells us more of his story."

* * *

><p>Author's note: of course everyone recognizes the ballet, 'The Nutcracker'.<p> 


	4. The Finale

The Finale

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><p><em>I am Alap and I am Tau, The First and The Last, The Origin and The Fulfillment.<em>

~Rev. 22:13 Aramaic Bible in Plain English

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><p>Lucy found herself sitting next to Peridan in a sort of parlor, but not like a parlor she had ever seen. The ceiling was a dome of glass and opened to the brilliant sky as it was lit with constellations, stars and those bands of light she had already seen. They seemed somehow close to the sky and looking up, Lucy could see faces on the sparkling stars and cities where she had once looked for constellations.<p>

The room was perfectly square and there seemed to be a window set in every wall. Lucy turned to look at them and they seemed to come out to her, or perhaps, she was going into them. Were they windows or pictures? They seemed so vivid, so marvelously real. There was a stunning brightness coming from them and singing so beautiful it made her spine shiver.

"Aren't they lovely?" Maev asked Lucy, surprising her by her voice. Lucy looked around and came back into the room, a room that suddenly seemed dull and dreary compared to the things in the pictures.

"What place is that?" Lucy asked, looking back and feeling herself almost fall into a limitless depth.

"They are paintings of Aslan's own county," Maev said quietly, "and as unlike it as black and white photographs are of your world."

"I want to go there," Lucy said and with such longing in her heart as she had never felt before.

"The next time you see that place, you will be there to stay," Maev said.

Fairies came forward, bearing platters of sweetmeats and drinks. First came some that were dressed in the airy garb of the Calormens, bearing coffee and spiced cake. Others in embroidered silk with bamboo parasols from Catai, brought tea and more from Telmar, in furry caps and tall boots and skirts so large they barely fit through the door, brought candy and sweets. Lucy ate until she could eat no more.

"Now," Maev said at last, "The time has come for me to ask why you have come to us."

Lucy stared at her, suddenly frozen. It was very well to come all that way, but to ask for a magical stone?

"I heard," she began slowly, "that you have a stone that shines as bright as the sun."

"I do," Maev said and smiling, she bade one of the fairies to fetch the stone. It was brought in an ivory box and as the box was opened, shafts of light cut through the air like spears and nearly blinded Lucy with their brilliance. Quickly Maev reached out and the brilliance was dimmed.

The stone itself lay in Maev's hand, glimmering softly and no larger than a robin's egg. It was mostly clear, but needles of golden light seemed to be permeated through it. It was beautiful.

"This is Koh-i-Noor, the brightest of all the Noors," Maev said, turning it this way and that, flashing rays of light over Lucy's face.

"I want it to shine on a cliff at night," Lucy suddenly blurted, "like a lighthouse. So many people have died…"

"But what will you give me in return?" Maev asked quietly, her slim fingers tapping the stone.

Lucy's heart chilled inside of her and she looked down at herself, "Nothing, I have nothing."

"Nonsense, of course you do."

"My most precious possession…" Lucy paused, "My cordial, I could go get it."

Maev made a dismissive gesture, "what would a fairy want with a heeling cordial? It is the humans that are always falling down and hurting themselves. No, I want something else. Something a fairy does not have; your courage perhaps, or your wisdom…or even your foolishness. I would take any of those in exchange."

"I – I would give up anything," Lucy's voice was very low and she sought Maev's eyes and held them, "That stone will save so many lives…take what you want."

Gently, Maev reached out and took Lucy's hand, her fingers firm. She held up the stone, glimmering, and slowly pressed it into Lucy's palm. It flashed, then lay quiet.

"The stone is yours," Maev said, smiling, "I will take nothing in return but the memory of you."

~o*o~

Lucy woke with a start. Sunlight was creeping through her window with golden fingers on the floor. She could tell from the way it shined that there were no clouds in the sky. Thoughtfully, she sat up. She had had a curious dream last night, very curious, yet no matter how she tried, she could not remember anything of it but light.

As she moved, something bumped against her arm and she looked down to see Peter's compass, bright in the early morning sunlight. Suddenly it all came back to her in a sickening rush. _Had it not happened at all, then?_ She wondered and the thought hurt so much that her throat pricked in sorrow. _It had seemed so real! _So real_._

With a sob, she buried her face in her hands and wept, wept her heart out. The door opened softly and Susan came to put her arms around her little sister.

"What is wrong?" she whispered. "What happened?"

"My dream!" Lucy gasped, "It's all gone!"

"Oh Lucy!" Susan said, brushing the hair out of Lucy's face.

"It was so real! I really thought it happened!" Lucy gasped, "I must have wanted it too much."

~o*o~

Lucy lived through that day in a daze. She sobbed anew when Peter told them about the new ship that had been wrecked on the black rocks and she stood little and silent while the others worried about her and asked her if she were sick. She said she wasn't, but she _was_ sick, sick at heart.

She barely heard the argument that the others were having, the argument about the King of Archenland and how he had sent word that he was coming and was going to arrive the next day.

"Why didn't anyone tell me this?" Peter had asked.

"Oh, didn't I?" Edmund looked blank, "I thought I did. I arranged it."

"So I now discover," Peter said dryly.

"The King and Queen of Archenland coming for Christmas!" Susan exclaimed, "How lovely!"

Lucy slipped away and sat under the Christmas tree, tears running in rivers down her swollen face. She felt that she had cried every last tear there was to cry, yet still more came.

"Oh Aslan! Why?" she whispered.

She must have fallen asleep under the tree, but no dreams came to plague her and Peter stopped to look down at her when he finally found her. Gently, he reached out and shook her shoulder. She came awake and looked up at him blurry eyed, her face crusted with the tears of waking and sleeping.

"Lucy?" Peter said quietly, "There is a curious fellow in the entrance hall. Says he has something of yours."

~o*o~

Peter had to run to keep up with her. Instantly, she was wide awake and on her feet, her face lit with hope.

"Lucy!" he called as he chased her down the hallway, "What is it?"

"My nutcracker!" she cried.

Peter was only in time to see her throw herself at a young, dark-haired man who stood nervously on the black and white marble floor of the entrance hall. His face lighting, he swung her around, then set her down.

"Then it wasn't a dream!" they both cried at once.

"It wasn't! It wasn't!" Lucy sobbed, hopping up and down.

"You forgot something," the young man said, slowly he opened his hand, shafts of light slicing between his fingers. Peter looked down to see a small brilliant thing lying on his palm.

"What is it?" Peter asked, agape.

"It's a Noor, Koh-i-Noor to be exact," Lucy said, taking it and holding it aloft. "I went last night for it, to shine on the cliff at night so no more ships would be wrecked."

"Went? Where?"

"East of the sun and west of the moon," Lucy said quietly.

"Oh my brave little sister," Peter said, picking her up off her feet.

~o*o~

In the darkness of the sea and night, a ship rose and fell on the waves. A little golden haired boy slept fitfully in a hammock, his mother watching him in the twilight of the cabin.

"Oh Aslan," she whispered, "be a light onto our path and a lamp unto our feet."

The timbers of the ship groaned and whimpered and the eyes of the ship's cat glowed as green as the wreckers' lanterns. On deck, wrapped in a dark cloak, the golden haired man paced the deck, soaked with freezing spray. The bowsprit rose and fell, painting dark circles on the sky and faintly, glimmering through the rain and sleet, there glowed a golden light.

"It must be land!" the man said and hastened aft. He reached the captain and caught his arm, bellowing to be heard above the storm.

"There's a lighthouse over there!"

"I see it!" the captain cried, he poked the steersman, "change of course! There must be a reef or rocks in front of us! Due north!"

~o*o~

The little boy was asleep when he was carried ashore. The ship rested quietly at anchor in the harbor behind him and he saw the stones of a castle through sleep dimmed eyes.

There were voices, talking; people were walking around and he heard his father laughing and his mother saying his name.

"Corin, Corin."

He opened his eyes, seeing gold light streaming though his eyelashes. Four people stood before him, all smiling.

"Prince Corin," one of them said, bowing, "I'm Peter."

"I'm Susan," another said, looking at him the way someone might look at a baby chick.

"Edmund," Edmund said.

The last person was a girl, very old she seemed to Corin and he looked at her seriously.

"It's not true," he stated, "You _are_ somebody much."

~o*o~

"Did it really happen?"

For some time, Caspian's eyes had been closed and for a bit, his nurse had thought him asleep. Now he looked up at her, searching her face.

"What do you think?" Nurse asked, tucking the coverlet more firmly under his chin.

"Were no more ships wrecked after that?" he asked.

"No more were wrecked because the Koh-i-Noor shined like the sun through the storm to guide the ships on their way."

"I'd like to see it someday," Caspian said quietly.

"A stone that shines is nothing," Nurse said, "but someday you will see Queen Lucy and King Peter, King Edmund and Queen Susan and best of all, Aslan himself and when that time comes, you will not think of a stone."

"Very soon?"

"All time is soon," Nurse said, smiling.

"I love the sea," Caspian said, as if wrenching something free. All his life, he had heard fear and horror whenever anyone spoke of the sea, yet when he looked out across the surging, ever-changing depths, his heart seemed to throw itself loose of him and reach forward to an unknown star.

"I know," Nurse said, leaning down to kiss him, "I can see it in your eyes when the sun rises over the ocean. Now my little seafarer, let me give you your sailing orders."

"Sailing orders?" Caspian asked.

"Your bed is a galleon, a ship with a huge, bellying sail. Keep the moon dead on your bowsprit end and you'll reach the land of nod where it drifts among the stars." Nurse said.

"Will you come with me?" Caspian asked.

"No, this voyage you must make alone," Nurse said, "but tomorrow, when I come to wake you, I will find your bed safely moored next to your dressing table and my little seafarer, an old salt with a thousand wonderful tales."

Caspian was adrift already and Nurse's voice seemed to fade astern as his vessel gathered speed, the sail drawing. He could hear the water surging past her planking, could almost feel the tiller in his hand. The figurehead was a dragon…a dragon.

"Sweet dreams and Aslan's blessings upon you," Nurse's voice came from across an ocean.

* * *

><p>The End<p>

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><p><em>Some stories are true that never happened.<em>

~ Elie Wiesel

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><p>Author's note: Koh-i-Noor means 'mountain of light' and the Koh-i-Noor is among the crown jewels of England. I imagine the Koh-i-Noor to look like a piece of rutilated quartz.<p>

According to Horse and his Boy, Cor was kidnapped the same year that the four children arrived in Narnia (and the Tisroc began his beneficent reign in Calormen (may-he-live-forever);) I made Corin a little older then Lewis possibly intended.

Merry Christmas!

~Rose and Psyche

PS: Hope you enjoyed it!

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